by Eliza Knight
Her face flamed all the redder, eyes flashing with anger. “You’re jesting with me.” A tiny finger poked out from a too-long sleeve to jab at his chest, burning him in the spot.
“I assure ye, lass, I dinna jest.” He caught her hand and flattened her palm to his chest.
“Why would you do such a thing? That is cruel.”
At first, he thought she referred to where he held her hand over his heart, but even when he eased his grip, she didn’t remove it, and he realized she was talking about the gown. “To lure Belfinch here.”
“Lure him here? Why on earth would you lure him here…?” Her voice trailed off. “We are not leaving?”
He traced his thumb over her knuckles, finding he liked it all too much. He should let go. “We will eventually, but only when I have him in my custody.”
“In your custody…” All the red drained from her face then, and she wavered on her feet.
Strath reached out to steady her just as her knees buckled.
“Will you use me as bait as you have used my clothes? Leave me lying naked in the field for him to find?”
“Nay, never, lass. I vowed to protect ye, and I meant it.”
She clutched at him, fear flashing in her pinched, pale features. He hated seeing her like that.
“I don’t want to… I can’t…” She shook her head, fighting with her emotions. Her words. Him.
“I will never let any harm come to ye.” His gaze fell to her lips. He wanted nothing more than to kiss her then. To put them both out of their misery. To forget why they were here. To at last claim her as his own.
But to do so when she was in this state was wrong. She needed to come to him of her own free will, for he’d already taken her against her will once when he’d taken her from her home. He would never do it again. Despite how much he wanted her. Despite the pounding in his heart that told him he would never be whole without her in his life for all time.
“He will have many men,” she whispered. “He will not cease until you are dead.”
“He canna hurt me, lass.”
“He can do whatever he wants.” Her voice was quiet but confident. “He has done whatever he wants before.”
“Not when he is in chains. I will stop him. The world need never worry about Belfinch again.”
“Will you kill him?” Widened eyes gazed at him in horror.
“Only if he forces me. I plan to give him over to my king, and perhaps his life can be exchanged for one of our own prisoners of war.” His voice softened as he said those words, realizing she might consider herself to be that. “What—”
Strath couldn’t continue, was unable to ask her what she wanted to do when Belfinch was detained. He didn’t want to know her answer. Because right now, holding her against him felt like the best thing in the world, and to let go, to let her slip away, would be utter hell. Already, his chest hurt from the thought of it.
And yet, if that was what she wanted…
That was when he knew for certain it had to be true love. Because he was willing to let her go, even if it caused him pain.
“When he is captured…” Strath paused, afraid his voice would crack with the force of emotion running though him. He touched two fingers to her chin and tilted her face toward his. “Ye will be safe. Ye’re not an enemy of Scotland.”
The lass blinked up at him, a flicker of some deeper emotion in her eyes. Before he could identify what it was, and what it might mean, her eyelids dipped closed, and a tear fell unmistakable on her cheek.
She wiped it away and shook her head, avoiding his gaze. “Do you plan to give my father to the king?” There was no inflection in her tone. “And…me?”
Strath gave a subtle shake of his head. “I was not sent for your father.” He couldn’t bring himself to say aloud that he should be presenting her to his king. At first he was going to present her as a prisoner. A suspected enemy of the Scots, but now he knew differently.
Eva straightened and backed away from him. “And will you present me to the king in this maid’s gown?” She held out her hands, running them through the air in front of her, and his gaze followed the movement.
He grinned slowly, teasing, incapable of not adding a little humor to the situation. The tension between them was so thick, he desired to lighten the mood. “While I wouldna mind ye remaining dressed like that just a wee bit longer, I wouldna dream of presenting ye to anyone with it so taut against your…” His gaze lingered on her breasts until she let out a huff and crossed her arms over her chest. Strath chuckled. “I jest with ye, lass. Your maid was supposed to have found ye a new gown, she must have forgotten as it was so late in the night. I will talk to my cousin, Isobel, and make certain ye have one of hers.”
“Thank you.”
“Ye needn’t thank me, it should have been done already. I did not wish to cause ye distress.”
Eva nodded, biting her lip. It seemed as though she wanted to say more, so he waited, memorizing the way her eyes looked with the sun filtering through his window.
“You have been so kind to me, my laird.”
Strath blew out a breath, reaching forward to tuck an errant lock of hair behind her ear. He changed his mind and twirled it about his finger. “Ye need not address me as such when it is just us in private. And lass, ye deserve nothing less than kindness. Nothing less than happiness. I’m only sorry ye were tangled up in this mess as ye were, and that I did not meet ye under different circumstances.”
Chapter Ten
Eva wanted to kiss him. Because everything he was saying sounded like goodbye, even if he didn’t say it outright. And as confused as she was, there was one thing she was certain of. She didn’t want this to be the end.
In the next few days, if not sooner, her father and Belfinch would be here. They would fight. They would lose. She knew that, even if Belfinch was too arrogant to believe it. The Scottish warriors were bigger, stronger, braver. They had more heart. And heart went a long way when it came to winning.
Was that not the reason why after so many years of war for their independence the Scots still got up every morning and fought? Was it not also why mothers and governesses told children the horror stories of the Scots, because in some part they were true? Only now, Eva knew there was another side to all of that.
She stared up into his stormy eyes, seeing a mixture of longing, pain, and determination. Determination to do what? Push her away?
His heart pounded beneath her hands, beating the same rhythmic tune as her own. No matter the words that came from his mouth, no matter that he implied he would be giving her over to his king. The truth was she had to find a way to stay with him, because she couldn’t imagine it any other way. If she explained about her mother’s family, about her desire to find out the truth behind her situation, he could help her. But there was more than that… she wanted to stay with him. Eva’s chest swelled with unspoken emotion. Emotion she wasn’t certain what to do with.
Despite what she saw in his eyes, what if he still rejected her?
They had been dancing along a path of uncertainty for days now. And all she knew was that if he was going to push her away, if he was going to give her up, then she was going to at least go after having kissed him. For if she did not, she might question for the rest of her days whether or not what she’d seen in his eyes was true. And how could she go the rest of her life not having felt his lips on hers?
Without hesitating any longer, Eva leaned up on her tiptoes and pressed her lips to his. At first, it seemed as though he were going to pull away, but then he snaked his strong arms around her back and pulled her tautly to his form. With decadent satisfaction, he kissed her back. He kissed her with all the passion and longing she’d seen in his eyes, with all the pent-up desire they’d both shared for days. Kissed her with heat and heart and left her body so filled with hope and happiness she thought she might burst. He teased the crease between her lips until she parted on a sigh, and he could slip his tongue inside. He was tender as he tast
ed her. Tender as he stroked her back, tugged on the length of her hair.
She clung to him, not wanting this kiss to end. Wanting to remember everything about it—about him. His scent of pine and spice. His taste of whisky and cinnamon. The feel of his warm, taut body against hers. The way his muscles rippled with every movement. Incredible. Decadent. Unforgettable.
She threaded her fingers in his hair, marveling at the way the softness tickled her palm, and tentatively stroked her tongue against his. At the low growl in his throat, she grew bolder, daring to swirl her tongue in a rhythmic fashion as old as time. Her body swayed into his. The whole world could have floated away for all she knew.
At last, this wondrous moment they had come to so many times… Why had she waited so long? Everything would change now. And she was willing to give up any life in England just to remain here with him, to kiss him every day.
Someone cleared their throat behind them. Who could possibly want to interrupt such a perfect moment?
Strath stiffened, and sense returned to her brain.
Someone is here.
“Oh,” she cried out, feeling heat rise to her face as she whipped around to see Tomaidh.
The warrior stared at his laird with raised brows. Thank heavens, he did not look at her at all, for she was certain she couldn’t bear the humiliation of being caught in such a compromising position.
Strath eased her behind him in a protective gesture, stretching up his hand to grip the door near the top, but he didn’t shut it.
“What is it?” Strath’s voice was gravelly, tight.
“A scout has returned.”
“I’ll be right down.”
Tomaidh left quickly, and Strath turned to face her. His lips were still a little wet, slightly swollen from the depth of their kiss, and she reached up to touch her own lips, sensing they must look the same. For a breath or two, he simply stared at her. Both of them were speechless. Was that regret in his eyes? Disappointment? Was it directed at her, or at their moment being interrupted?
She didn’t regret what had just happened for a second, but she was positive she couldn’t handle the rejection she felt certain was coming.
“We shall talk more later,” he said, running a hand through his hair, and then stroking her cheek.
Oh, how she wanted to lean in to the tender gesture. Was that a sign he wasn’t rejecting her? Or another way of saying goodbye?
Eva nodded, unsure of herself. She wanted to ask so many questions, to know if she’d pleased him, to tell him he’d pleased her. That she’d liked kissing him, and that…
But then he was tugging on his boots, and she stood there feeling a fool as he laced them up. When he was done, he let out a long breath and gazed at her in such a way she was certain she could see his thoughts. There was regret. There was trepidation. He rose from the chair, sauntered slowly forward. Again, he touched her cheek, looked as though he wanted to say something, but in the end, not a word left his lips. Instead, he gave a subtle shake of his head, let out a disappointed breath, and exited the chamber.
Eva was crushed.
Standing in the center of his room, she felt alone. Cold.
Fool.
Always the fool. Always putting her heart out there only to have it stomped on. Always seeming to be the last to know what was going on around her.
He’d not said anything, but he’d not had to. That look in his eyes had told her everything she needed to know.
Eva wrapped her arms around her middle, feeling vulnerable and disheartened. She’d put herself out there, given herself to Strath in that kiss in hopes that perhaps he might return the feelings.
There had been passion. There had been need and longing and deep emotion. She’d felt it. But no matter, he was not going to accept it.
Standing up straight, she smoothed out her hair, feeling ridiculous in the ill-fitting gown. What had she been thinking? She should have just waited for her maid to bring her one that fit. But she’d been so angry, so frustrated, she’d acted without thinking. And not once had she considered there’d be any consequences. And there hadn’t been—not for wearing the maid’s clothes. Nay, the only consequence had been a pleasurable kiss and a broken heart. And despite the pain cracking her ribs, she’d do it all over again.
She slipped from Strath’s chamber, closed the door behind her, and made her way back to her room, which was on an upper level, praying she didn’t meet anyone along the way. In her anger this morning, she’d not even considered the fact that she’d be marching in full view of everyone, wearing this ridiculous gown.
Luckily, she’d not met anyone on the way here and didn’t come across anyone now. The maid waited patiently in Eva’s chamber, and when Eva entered, she leapt to her feet.
“My lady.” She pointed to the made bed and a beautiful gown the color of heather placed there. “Lady Isobel came by to see ye and left this. I hemmed the bottom so it willna drag.”
Relief flooded Eva, and also a little guilt at having deprived Isobel of a beautiful gown. She’d make certain to thank her later. “I must express my apologies for taking your clothes. I was in a state, and it was unkind of me.”
The maid shook her head and giggled. “’Twas the most excitement I’ve had all year. I’d do it again in a heartbeat.”
Eva grinned. “I’m glad you enjoyed it.”
“Did ye find out what he did with the gown?” The maid came forward and helped Eva undress.
“It’s all over Scotland. Apparently, I’m to be used as bait.”
“Oh.” The maid frowned and looked away, not divulging whatever it was she’d wanted to say.
When the maid lifted the gown from the bed, Eva shook her head. “You dress first, please.”
The young lady smiled and nodded. “Thank ye.”
When she was done dressing, she helped Eva into the soft gown and then left. Not too long after, Lady Isobel came by to take her down to breakfast.
“Thank you so much for the gown.”
“It looks lovely on ye.”
“If there is any way I can repay you, please allow me. I feel bad that I’ve taken your clothes.”
Isobel waved away her words. “Dinna feel bad. I have plenty, and the color of this one looks much better on ye than it did on me.”
Eva smiled, smoothing her hand over the soft skirts. “Thank you.”
“It was my pleasure. Are ye hungry? The men are meeting in my father’s study, so my lady mother has set up breakfast in her salon, and we’d love for ye to join us.”
“I would be delighted.” And that was not an exaggeration. She longed for female companionship, and at the same time, it made her miss her sister all the more.
Since it had just been the two of them, and they were so close in age, Eva and Jacqueline had gotten along quite well. They had shared a chamber until Jacqueline was wed. And every night, they’d fall asleep telling each other stories. In the morning, they’d get ready for the day together, help each other with chores and their studies, knowing the sooner they were both done, the sooner they could explore.
Eva had begged to go with her sister when she married, but her father had forbidden it, saying that Jacqueline needed time to adjust to her new married life, that she needed to obey her husband, focus on his needs, and not those of her younger sister.
If she didn’t know already, Jacqueline would be horrified when she found out what had happened. How Eva wished she could comfort her, tell her that all would be well.
Isobel linked her arm with Eva’s and led the way up another flight of stairs and into the lady of the castle’s salon, chattering all the way. The floor was strewn with rushes and tapestried carpets. Chairs and chaises with embroidered cushions were in the center of the room, and the walls were hung with soft wool drapes and tapestries.
In the corner, a harpist played soft music, and along one wall was a trestle table, not quite as long as those in the great hall, but still large enough to seat eight people easily, though at the moment
it was only set for three.
“My lady,” Eva said, ducking into a curtsy as Lady Lorna greeted her. “Your salon is beautiful and so welcoming.”
“I’m glad ye could join us. ’Tis not often we have guests in here.” Lady Lorna’s eyes were bright with merriment, and it almost broke Eva’s heart how welcoming they truly were.
Mostly everything she’d ever learned about the Scottish people was wrong.
“This is my mother’s favorite room in the castle,” Isobel said with delight. “And no lads allowed.”
“Aye, a room for ladies only.” The two of them laughed and gave each other a conspiratorial look that made Eva’s heart ache for the loss of her own mother.
How would things have been different if her mother had not disappeared?
They led Eva to the table, and all three of them sat down. The harp music, soft candles, and sweet smells gave it an air of tranquility that calmed Eva’s nerves.
A moment later, servants laid out platters of roasted ham with gravy and raisins, poached eggs, stewed fruit, and scones.
Eva’s stomach rumbled. The aroma had her mouth watering, and she couldn’t wait to taste each thing. “I’ve never seen a spread like this so early in the day.”
“Well, we do love our breakfast,” Lorna said, serving Eva and Isobel. “Truth be told, we love every meal.”
“And you can barely tell. How do you keep your figure?” Eva slapped her hand over her mouth. “I should not have asked. Please accept my apologies.”
Lorna waved away her apology with a laugh. “’Tis nothing. I enjoy daily exercise, mostly riding and walking.”
“Oh, mother, ye are being modest now.” Isobel took a gulp of milk. “Mother does tricks on her horse.”
“Tricks?” Eva’s eyes widened.
“Aye. She stands on them as they ride. Has even started to hang from the side upside down. My da is quite against it, but he still lets her do it.” The way Isobel said it so casually, as though she were talking about her mother taking up sewing, made it seem so normal.
